


An A-Faire to Remember

by Followmeintotheshadows



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Fluff and Humor, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 04:42:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14709281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Followmeintotheshadows/pseuds/Followmeintotheshadows
Summary: Shadowhunters need a day off sometimes and what's better than a Renaissance Faire? Oh, and there's Malec.





	An A-Faire to Remember

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zafra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zafra/gifts).



“Step right up and dunk a wench! A mere five shillings shall grant thee two shots!” Jace beckoned in his best olde English accent, trying to rouse some willing participants.

Clary was perched on the slim board of the dunk tank dressed like Lady Guinevere and was already soaked through her layers. The sun was high in the sky and burning hot for a spring day, the unexpected humidity in the air sticking to the back of her neck. She probably shouldn’t have worn the full lace-up corset under the gown, or at least changed before she agreed to be wench of the hour. There was nothing worse than wet corset hooks and heavy velvet irritating your porcelain skin, and she felt like grandma’s old draperies hanging out on the clothesline.

“I think you’re enjoying this a little too much, Jace, or shall I call you Arthur? I highly doubt Guinevere would appreciate you calling her a wench,” Clary sneered, scrunching up her nose and glaring back at him.

“That’s King Arthur, to you. My lady doth protest too much,” he countered, giving her a wink. “I’m kinda liking the hot and bothered look on you,” he leaned over and whispered in her ear.

“All for a good cause, remember?” Alec reminded them as he marched by, cracking a half smile when he saw Clary’s tongue sticking out at him. “Ten more minutes of this and head over to the knife throwing demonstration,” he delegated, tapping on the face of his watch. “Oh, and try not to impale anyone, Jace. I will meet up with you guys at the tavern at 5:00.” 

“Aye, Sir, we shall be fill’d with pangs of hunger by then. Farewell for now!” Jace shouted, giving Alec a salute as a couple of young boys came over with dollars in their hands. “Well, good morrow, thou art strapping young lads! Who thinks he can dunk M’Lady here?”

Clary was right, Jace was enjoying this, and it made Alec happy that his parabatai was relaxing a bit. Spending the day outside of the Institute was a good decision and he smiled to himself as he walked.

Catarina had recruited them to help out at the Renaissance Faire fundraiser that she had organized for the Children’s Hospital. Luke had promised that he and his pack would set up extra guards around the Institute and notify them if there were any signs of demonic activity. They agreed that a few hours of breathing space would be a welcome change. They would be able to keep an eye out for any malevolence in a mundane setting without having to worry too much about glamours. A Renaissance Faire costume wasn’t that different from Shadowhunter battle gear anyway. Throw some chainmail on over the usual attire and they would blend right in. Besides, where else could you go wearing real weapons without eliciting a second glance? 

The clinking sounds of metal from the jousting pit and the clopping of horse hooves echoed through the air around the transformed Central Park. A castle was set up at the far corner of the grounds, surrounded by larger than life inflatable dragons. Meandering pathways of stone weaved through trees, leading up to giant tents, open fields, makeshift stages, and ended at the gristmill tavern on the edge of the lake. Alec could smell smoked turkey legs, pickles, and spiked cider as he walked, making a mental note to get one of each later.

He passed Isabelle, dressed as Morgana, her seraph blades hidden beneath black lace, with a plunging bodice showing off her greatest assets. A crowd of men stared, entranced as she led the Maypole dance, circling and winding the colored silk ribbons in a seductive sway that was all Izzy. They couldn’t line up fast enough, handing over their money and following her orders as if they had all drank the same flavor Kool-Aid. Alec shook his head and smiled when his eyes met hers. 

“G’day, Mistress!” he called out to her. “Thy dancing is sure to fetch many a shilling. Tis the perfect duty for thee, that Catarina sure knows what she dost,” he laughed. 

“Begone, Sir Lancelot, leave me to my lascivious ways,” Izzy twirled away from him, smirking. 

“We shall carouse at the tavern at the 5:00 hour!” Alec called out to her as he continued on his path. 

A crowd gathered around the music platform as the “Castle Luters” took the stage. Simon was the first to offer to be part of the band for a day, figuring if he could play the guitar, how different could a lute be? He got the hang of it quickly and felt right at home contributing to the accompaniment of sounds; string instruments, high pitched pipes, and the clapping and stomping of the musical group. Maia helped out, shaking a tambourine against her hip and weaving through the crowd. Dressed as Robin Hood and Maid Marian, they fit right into the lively band of merriment.

Alec had an hour to kill, so he made his way over to the stage and took a seat in the back row, giving a slight nod to Simon. He had to admit, ever since he and Clary were on better terms, her talkative vampire best friend wasn’t as annoying as he once thought. He’d never understand his fondness for any sci-fi plot with the word “star” in it, but he had proven to be selfless when it came to doing things for a good cause. The music was cheerful, the thrumming and drumming reverberating in his chest as he watched, and he felt himself unwind a bit. 

A few songs in and the bagpipes took over, their mournful sounds resonating through the trees. A feeling of longing seeped into Alec’s heart. He missed Magnus, the thought hit him suddenly like a lead weight hanging between his lungs. He grew uneasy as the music continued, its lament wrapping its tendrils around his mind. He knew Magnus would have loved to be here but he was stuck at a Warlock Summit in Nepal, traveling through Tibet, then onto Indonesia hoping to dredge up support from some of his old contacts. All in an effort to eventually gain his title of High Warlock back from Lorenzo Rey. After the summit was over, he would be traveling to the hardest to reach places of the far east, visiting his birthplace for one last time. “A healing trip,” Magnus had called it, facing his past head-on and burying it once and for all. He insisted it was something he must do on his own and that he would come back before the month’s end. That gave Alec something to hold onto, but it had been three weeks since he had left and Alec hadn’t heard from him. They had known that communication would be close to impossible, but he was hoping for at least a fire message. Alec was trying to keep himself so busy that he wouldn’t think about it constantly, his work the only thing keeping him from spiraling deep into a pit of panic. One more report to file, one more lead to follow up on, one more hour to patrol, one more hour to train. Anything to keep his mind occupied and away from an empty bed, cold silken sheets, and the piece missing from his heart. But he was growing restless, tired of keeping up appearances, just wanting to know that Magnus was okay.

Alec replayed the last night they were together, their final kisses on swollen lips, the sweet taste of gin mingling with heated breaths. After conceding to Magnus’s reasoning that he shouldn’t leave the Institute, Alec had acquiesced. “Let’s just agree to disagree,” he announced before capturing Magnus’s lips again, his throat thick with unspoken words. They laid their armor down, spending the night tangled up in each other, committing every touch to memory. 

“Don’t move Alexander, I want to remember how you look right now.” Magnus traced Alec’s lips with his thumb, “like an angel,” he whispered. “I want to burn it into my memory,” Magnus smiled into heavy, hazel eyes; Alec gazing back into a face so captivating he found it hard to breathe. “Know that even when I am gone, I will be with you right here, always,” he vowed, taking his hand and placing it over Alec’s heart. 

Simon caught a glimpse of Alec watching him play, surprised that the prickly Head of the Institute even liked music. He always thought of him as a “talk radio” kind of guy. But after a rough start to their “friendship”, Simon was happy to be at a place where he was at least called something other than “Hand Solo” or “Simple Simon.” Plus, he couldn’t help but admire the man who was making waves in the Shadow World, breaking down barriers and changing stereotypes, with the support of his love for a Downworlder. He couldn’t say they were close by any means, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to notice the look on Alec’s face. He stared into space, unblinking, so long that tears threatened to spill the surface of his weary eyes. 

Alec looked up at the stage again, the scrunched lines on Simon’s forehead staring back at him as he strummed. He shook out the cobwebs and held up his hand making a five, zero, zero, and gestured towards the tavern until Simon nodded his head in understanding. 

Alec had thirty minutes to make it to the archery range. Walking through the “enchanted forest,” he weaved in and out of giant, spotted toadstools, a butterfly garden, and a man dressed as Sir Galahad with a falcon on his shoulder. Children were getting their faces painted; hospital patients briefly escaping their confines and constant reminders of their illnesses. Catarina, dressed as the Lady of the Lake, had them corralled and was keeping a watchful eye on them. Their giggles and smiles made Alec’s heart swell, realizing that what they were doing was noble, and it picked his spirits up from the sullen mood he had fallen into. 

“Greetings, M’lady! Lovely lasses and lads, you have there!” Alec waved. “Art thou able to steal away and meet us at the tavern at the 5 o’clock hour?”

“Aye, M’lord! Can thou meet me at the Magician’s tent the half hour prior, perchance? I wish to speak to thee.” Catarina asked with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“I shall be there, Madame. Until then, fare thee well,” he bowed his head to her as he continued on his way.

When Alec reached the archery range, he felt right in his element, instructing the kids just the right way to hold the bow grip, nock an arrow, and send it flying towards the targets. He was enjoying himself, was a natural with the kids, and two hours went by quickly. As he was packing up and storing his arrows methodically in their quiver, something sparked his Shadowhunter senses, sending a shiver inching up his spine. Alec couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched. He scanned the grounds but could only see the Royal Guard and their horses clomping by on their way to real Wizard’s chess. He cracked his neck back and forth trying to release some tension, let out a deep breath, and opted to follow them in the direction of the Magician’s tent. 

Members of the Guard gathered on both sides of the grass clearing, a life-size chess board spread out in the middle of a field. They were dressed as rooks, bishops, knights, and pawns as well as two kings and two queens, ready for a battle of tactics and strategy. The soldier and leader in Alec knew all too well about choices, always thinking of the long-term and more often than not, the sacrifices that needed to be made for the greater good. He watched as opponents from opposite sides took turns calling out moves as the real-life chess pieces moved to their designated spots. He was intrigued and would have loved to stay, but remembered his promise to meet Catarina. 

“Hello? Catarina?” he called; the tent flaps closing behind him, leaving nothing but a sliver of dust mote filled sunlight to navigate around in. Alec checked his watch noticing that he was ten minutes late. His eyes adjusted to the weak light as he cursed to himself for getting caught up in the live chess game. Examining the slanted side walls, he saw storage boxes haphazardly piled and overfilled with Wizard’s wands, pointed hats, and long, white fake beards. There were crystal balls, plastic skulls, candles, and potion bottles drawing Alec’s thoughts to Magnus again. He realized that he was in the storage tent, when the uneasy feeling came back, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He spun around quickly, fingers instinctively wrapping around his bow, but nothing was there. Running his fingers through his dark hair, Alec chuckled, thinking that he must be losing his mind. A soft, cool breeze blew in from the outside adding to the goosebumps already covering his body. It carried the smell of fresh cider, sweet cotton candy, and… Alec’s heart clenched as the faint scent of sandalwood floated through the air. It must be his imagination, he thought closing his eyes, the yearning in his heart as heavy as the chain mail hanging against it. Even now, he could picture the yellow-green flecks of a pair of cat’s eyes, the light scruff outlining a brilliant, accepting smile meant for only him. Even now, he could feel Magnus’s skin wrapped around him, the warmth in his voice when he called his name. “Alexander?” he thought he heard it, forcing his weighted lids to open wide. It was so faint, a soft whisper filling the longing ache in his chest.

But the sparkling, marble eyes lighting up the darkness were real, the man they belonged to walking towards him; magic currents of light reflecting off his silhouette. He couldn’t close the distance fast enough, wrapping his arms around Magnus, holding on until his heart stopped thundering.

“What? How? When?” he stuttered, pulling back to look at Magnus, staring back at the beautiful face gleaming up at him.

“I wanted to surprise you,” he held one finger up to Alec’s lips to shush him. “And don’t be mad, but Catarina might be in on my little scheme. There may have been some magic involved, causing you to walk into the wrong tent,” he smirked, as blue sparks flew from his palms.  
“God, Magnus, I’ve missed you so much,” Alec breathed out, pulling him back into a tight embrace, closing his eyes, and finally relaxing in the arms of the man that held his heart.

“I’ve missed you too, Alexander. More than words can express,” Magnus’s tone inflecting a not so playful mood after all. 

Alec’s back grew stiff, worry lines forming on his brow as he held onto Magnus’s shoulders and inspected him at an arm’s length. “Are you okay? What happened in ...” 

Magnus was the one to close in on Alec this time, “Later,” he murmured as smooth palms cradled both sides of Alec’s face. Lips, teeth, and tongues crashed together until they stood breathless, their foreheads pressed together, white flares of magic lighting up the tent like fireflies. They pulled away slowly, keeping their hands intertwined, not willing to let go. Alec’s eyes widened, awestruck at the sparks flying around the tent.

He smiled at Magnus, his hand gently caressing his neck. “I think you have it backward, you’re the one who never ceases to amaze me. Ever since you came into my life, my world has been filled with magic. I love you and I am here for you. You can tell me all about it later. I am just happy you’re home,” he exhaled, letting a sense of relief wash over him.

“I love you too and as I told you before my dear Alexander, I’m not going anywhere,” Magnus eyes crinkled. “All in good time. Today is about the children for they are the perfect reminder of the reason we do what we do.” 

Alec nodded his head, reluctantly pulling away. “As much as I’d like to portal back to the loft and have you all to myself, we have to meet the others at the tavern at 5:00.” 

“The night is still young, my valiant knight. Although you make an absolutely breathtaking Lancelot, this chainmail is quite the hindrance. Give me a moment, I have the perfect costume for myself in mind,” Magnus grinned as threads of magic surrounded him. “Lead the way, my chivalrous love.”

The tavern was loud when they arrived hand in hand, Magnus dressed as the perfect Merlin. His long royal blue robe was adorned with tiny crescent moons and stars that sparkled when the light hit them just right. The mead was already flowing, the clinking of pewter steins and the smell of wood smoke, honey, and vinegar filled the air. Jace, Clary, Izzy, Simon, Maia, and Catarina sat in a semi-private corner creating their own motley version of the Knights of the Round Table. All but Catarina were surprised to see Magnus and they stood to greet him with welcoming hugs.

“Thank thee Lord you have returned, good sir, me stomach could not taketh the constant feeling of indigestion from my parabatai here,” Jace shook Magnus’s hand grinning wide. He gave Alec a pat on the back on his way by, happy to see him smiling again. “Tis reason for more drinks. Where art thou drink, wench? Dost she not know who is king around here?”

“If thee would like thine hand in courtship, thou best not speak about women that way! God save the king!” Clary scoffed, rolling her eyes and following Jace to the bar to keep him out of trouble.

“Tis uncanny how natural he is at this. Unbeknownst to him, King Arthur had a clandestine affair with Merlin himself,” Magnus raised his eyebrows, whispering to Alec. 

Alec choked back his mead stifling a laugh, not even wanting to know how Magnus knew that little fact. “Don’t worry, Lady Guinevere will knock him off his throne.”

“Enchantress, you make a lovely Morgana my dear,” Magnus lightly kissed the back of Izzy’s hand. “And I see you’ve added some lovely accessories to your collection,” he said, eyeing her newly acquired moonstone necklace, its iridescent shine enhancing her decolletage. 

“Well, I had to pass the jewelry tent on my way here,” Izzy explained. “What can I say? Mundane baubles intrigue me,” she shrugged. 

Simon scurried over to Magnus and Alec, fidgeting and more antsy than usual. He coughed into his hand nervously clearing his throat, “Um, excuse me, Magnus… Merlin... sir... I will pledge my undying fealty if thou can magic off these tights prithee before I dost not make it to the privy,” Simon gritted out clenching his teeth. 

“Hey, they’re called tights for a reason,” Maia teased, “not much else can keep an impenetrable bloodsucker contained.”

The whole table overheard as roars of laughter filled the tavern. Simon would have turned ten shades of deep red if he could, but soon felt relief when Magnus discreetly came to his aid and he dashed off to the bathroom. 

The mead and food continued to arrive until bellies were full and everyone was feeling content. “I’d like to make a toast,” Catarina declared. “First of all, it is so good to have Magnus back safely and we are grateful for that. We are all ears when you are ready to talk about your travels.”

Alec placed his hand over Magnus’s and smiled, his eyes crinkling in their corners. He continued to listen, unconsciously rubbing his thumb in gentle circles along the back of Magnus’s hand.

“Secondly,” Catarina went on, “I want to thank you all for your help today. I know it is hard to be away from your normal duties and I really appreciate it. The preliminary numbers coming in say that we have raised $25,000 today. That will go towards juvenile diabetes research, childhood cancer research, and other important problems that we face every day at the hospital. You have all made this a huge success.”

“Lastly,” she raised her stein, reverting back to olde English, “Luke has assured me that all is well at the Institute so thou art free to go for the evening. I bid thee farewell for now and a final thank you to thee.”

“Huzzah!” the group clinked their steins together for one last time before heading out. 

Dusk was beginning to settle along the fairgrounds. The trees cast crooked shadows over the lake, the fading sun quickly dipping behind them. Alec and Magnus sat on a park bench watching it blaze down, reflecting like flames off the ripples in the water just before surrendering into twilight. Magnus placed his head on Alec’s shoulder and sighed, “Mesmerizing, isn’t it?”

“You are,” Alec smiled before taking Magnus’s hand in his and placing a gentle kiss to the back of it. 

“Will you please indulge me one last fortune, before I call it a night?” an elderly stranger hobbled over to them, disturbing their moment alone. She was dressed like a gypsy in a long, dark skirt, a bandana wrapped around her head, and fingerless gloves revealing crooked fingers that wrapped tightly around a wooden cane.

“By all means, be our guest,” replied Magnus, as he and Alec rose to give her space to sit.

“No, no please sit my dears. I will make this brief, but I couldn’t help seeing it… the aura you give off is one of pure love. The whites blend with the reds in a perfect compliment. It is very rare to have affirmation and passion so well balanced. Even when the darkness comes, it is this love that will get you through it. Until the sands are turned to glass and the world burns into cinders.” She turned and left without another word, disappearing into the darkness, leaving them alone with the constant chorus of the spring peepers.

“Hmph, well, I have to agree with the passion part,” Alec turned to face Magnus, lifting his eyebrows and cracking that endearing, crooked smile.

Even in the darkness, Magnus knew a slight blush crept up Alec's neck, accentuating one of his favorite runes. He gently traced it with his finger, making his Shadowhunter shudder. Alec placed his own hand over Magnus’s and closed his eyes, a slight frown forming on his closed lips.

“I didn’t care for her cryptic ending though. It’s too close to the truth in our line of work,” Alec paused a moment before continuing, the smile slowly coming back to his face. “What she doesn’t know, is that Nephilim only love once and fiercely. If the world turned to ash tonight, I would still love you.”

“Even then my Angel... even then” Magnus professed, unable to stop smiling at Alec's revelation, knowing that after centuries of living, no one had ever completed his soul as the man in front of him. “I had an old friend named William… he dabbled in poetry, even wrote a few plays. Here is one of my favorite lines of his, let’s see if I can recite it word for word.” Magnus cleared his throat, a searing look meeting Alec’s eyes. “My bounty is as deep as the sea, my love as deep; the more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite.”

“Sounds like a pretty smart guy,” Alec whispered, leaning in and capturing Magnus’s lips with his, a kiss filled with the sweet taste of cider and promises of forever. “What do you say we get out of here?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

**Author's Note:**

> A story inspired by my dear Zafra, my para, who went to a Renaissance Faire for part of her birthday celebration. May M'lady enjoy many more to come! Feel free to comment and I thank you for reading.


End file.
